Shadows
by trustno1-1987
Summary: Last night you gave me a kiss


**Shadows **

They lie side by side on a king-size bed, in a hotel room that smells of wide open spaces. The foot of space between them seems like nothing compared to the 2000 miles of the last few weeks.

A streetlight casts a thin light around the room through the window with no curtain, creating shadows that stretch and dance around them. A hand moved slightly off the bed jumps around the room from wall to ceiling to wall; a body shifted position merges with another.

They begin talking at dusk about the last few weeks; going back in time as the night moves forward and blankets the hotel room in a secretive darkness. Their voices grow quieter as the night presses down on them, and the past catches up with them, until melodic whispers fill the room, lulling them towards sleep.

He closes his eyes, letting her voice wash over him like waves on a shingle beach: musical and mesmerising. His breathing matches the rhythm of her words; his ears pick up on the subtle changes in her timbre and pitch; his mind paints him a picture of how she's saying those words.

She gazes at her sleeping partner, wondering if she looks as calm as that in slumber. Hoping he'd be the one to tell her.

_Last night you gave me a kiss_

His breathing never falters as the whispers fail to reach him; doesn't hitch at the feather-light touch of her lips on his cheek; isn't released in a sigh as she pulls away, but not before grazing his lips with her own. She doesn't know if she's disappointed or glad.

_You didn't know it, but I was awake when you did_

The bed dips as she settles back, subtly closer than before, but not so they're in each others' personal space. The whispers begin again, more fervent now, more emotive. She's looking at the ceiling. He can tell. She isn't looking at him anymore.

_You were quiet, you were gonna let me sleep_

In the beginning, they sat up against the backboard, heads turned towards each other as they spoke. Hands would brush occasionally. As the light faded, she turned fully to her side, sliding down so she was lying, head propped up on an arm. He mirrored the position. Eventually his arm grew tired, and his head hit the pillow. She mirrored, removing her arm in a way that brushed it against his. Still they talked, and from time to time they felt warm breath on cheeks, on lips, if the other laughed, or sighed.

_So I just lay there pretending to be_

Now, although she's that little bit closer, he can't feel her whispering. She's talking to him, but not _to_ him. He lets her – the sound is still soothing. His breathing is calming too, and so very him; it makes it easier for her to talk to him, even if he can't hear.

_You said some things you didn't know I could hear_

He wonders if he can move his hand towards her without alerting her to his being awake; he knows she needs to say these things now, like this. In the end, she makes the decision for him. The bed dips again, and he knows there's no more than three inches separating them. He feels the heat and strength of her body as she lies next to him. She feels along the bed in the darkness; slips her cool hand in his for the infinite time that day. He hears their connection; he feels whispered words; only the odd few register. She closes her eyes, trying to remember when lines were blurred, broken, erased. She can't. No matter now.

_And the words "I love you" never sounded so sincere _

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**AN: This is in response to a challenge posted in 2006 on the DLChem board. I saw the challenge, and immediately this scene popped into my head, and, of course, I wrote it down. Therefore, excuse any mistakes with the tenses (I checked through, but may have missed a couple of things), and anything else that isn't quite right.**

**It is DL, and a post-ep for Sleight Out of Hand, but it is a very ambiguously written fic, so if you read it as other characters, that's cool. **

**Oh, and these characters (whoever you picture) belong to the fine folks at CBS etc. I'm not one of them.**

**Thanks. BadWolf**


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